Wanting
by liaisonwiththecouch
Summary: -one-shot- Kanna doesn't want. Wanting is human.


A/N: I wrote this quite a while ago… stopped, and then went back to finish it because I liked it too much to give up on it.

--start--

I.

I want.

There is a time in the beginning when Kanna does nothing, needs nothing, and nothing is needed of her. In the first days after being born, when Naraku is young and bored, long before Kagura or Mouryoumaru or Byakuya, before dark rooms and cold stone hallways claim her.

Knowing nothing in the world but the face of her father-not-her-father, she walks outside and takes her first steps, with no father and mother to support her as she ventures forth. She wanders through forests and fields, meadows and villages, not seeing anything but the abyss where she comes from and where she will always return.

She doesn't want. Wanting is human.

I want to feel.

Grass under my feet.

Wind in my hair.

Sun on my face.

I want.

Naraku likes humans. What Naraku really wants is a plaything, something to experiment with and play with, to form under his fingers into something that can amuse him and fill his abyss. Kanna isn't human. She is nothing, she is emptiness, she is the space in the mirror where there is no reflection. She is the rough draft.

From Naraku comes Kagura, who is the fire, the emotion. She is all Kanna isn't, and at one point Kanna wonders if Kagura took everything. But she doesn't feel spite or bitterness towards Kagura. Kagura is volatile and prone to quick flashes of temper and always reaching for what she doesn't really want. But what really matters for her is that she can't have it.

Kagura wants everything and has nothing. Kanna is nothing.

I want to see.

My sister's black hair.

My father's dark smile.

My mirror's smooth glass.

I want.

There is a period of time when Kanna is younger than she is old and she tastes everything because she can't taste anything. She tastes her hair, her fingers, her skin and at one point, as she examines one of Kagura's elegant hands, puts the long fingers into her mouth with the thoughtfullness of experimentation.

Kagura recoils with a cry of disgust. "Like tending a baby," she comments spitefully, not caring that one of her nails has scored shallow gash across Kanna's pale lips. Kanna doesn't hurt, inside or out, but her body ignores her mind and tears run down her face. Kagura is regretful, but not enough to quench the anger that keeps her from collapsing.

But anger doesn't matter. Not for Kanna.

I want to taste.

Blood in my mouth.

Sweat on my lips.

Tears from my cheeks.

I want.

Kagura talks a lot. Kanna doesn't always listen, because her rants generally follow the same theme and if she does listen she gets confused and her mirror grows cloudy. Kanna doesn't like her mirror to be cloudy. She wants it to be bright and gleaming, because then it will be easier to find herself a reflection. If souls are what are required to find a reflection, then they belong in her mirror.

When Kagura screams in frustrated despair and slams her fist against the wall, Kanna is there, every time. Because Kagura is there, Kagura is part of her, and sometimes she thinks Kagura could be her soul. But if so, she is a bad one, because your soul should belong to you only.

Kagura belongs to the world. Not Kanna.

I want to smell.

Flowers in the earth.

Dust in the hallways.

Wood burning.

The first time Kanna goes anywhere with Kagura, it is Naraku's will. This is the first time Kanna has left her father's castle since Kagura's birth, because Naraku grows lonely when he is by himself and Kagura cannot stay in one place. Kanna is not good company, but better than nothing, and Naraku often takes her mirror and plays with it, making the light dance across the walls.

The first time Kanna goes anywhere with Kagura, they destroy a village. Kagura dances with her winds, her movements less graceful and intended than spasmodic bodily expressions of release, but Kanna is unmoved, untouched, unfeeling in the destruction. All she can feel is the absence within her, even as her mirror grows full and satisfied.

Kagura is satisfied. Kanna is empty.

I want to hear.

The villager's screams.

The falling of houses.

The following silence.

When Kanna dies, it's not enough. She is cracked, she is flawed, and she is broken, and she is empty forever, because Kagura is long gone, with untouchable Byakuya smiling faintly in her place. Naraku likes Byakuya, because he has Kagura's spirit without her rebellion.

Byakuya has little time for Kanna. He is too like Naraku; he is fascinated by humans, by the pretty playthings they make, and Kanna is too empty. He doesn't rant and scream, like Kagura, he smiles and waits.

Kanna dies, and she is empty.

I want to feel.

I want to see.

I want to taste.

I want to smell.

I want to hear.

I want.

I. I want.

I. I.

I.

I want.

--end--


End file.
